Testing the Waters
by Choice
Summary: Follows The Morning After. Kurt learns he's got to man up if he wants to do this right.


**Testing the Waters

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**I'm so tired, and wishing it were Friday night instead. Stupid school...! Anyway, this is shorter but it was just as frustrating to write as TMA was. Puck and Kurt insist on taking this slow while I tear my hair out in the background, waiting for the imminent porn.  
Still, I hope you enjoy!

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Wednesday had Kurt's recovering stomach doing acrobatics, but he was just as excited as he was nervous. He selected a rich autumnal palette of goldenrod yellows and fierce reds for the day's outfit, finishing off his ensemble with a plaid scarf (in a jaunting shade of plum, just because he could). Kurt left his house knowing just how ridiculously hot he looked, a light smirk uplifting his lips and a bounce in his Doc Marten-dressed step.

Kurt flounced his way into McKinley, his head held high as he pseudo-casually scanned the knackered morning crowds for a familiar head of hair (or lack thereof). He was just about to turn into the math wing when a _lovely_ spray of blue raspberry met him head-on.

As he sputtered and futilely wiped at the syrup that burned his eyes, he heard the familiar chortles of Karofsky and Azimio, followed by the _clap_ of a high-five. One of them shoulder-checked him as they passed by, but Kurt didn't bother making a move until they were gone for sure.

Kurt sighed and opened his eyes, braving the burn as he slinked over to the nearest bathroom. It was empty, save for one AV club techie who gave Kurt a sideways glance as he wordlessly left.

Twenty minutes later Kurt was back in the halls, slightly damp but more or less put-together. His scarf had thankfully made it out somewhat undamaged, and it hid the ghosts of blue marring his pale yellow sweater. His overcoat, on the other hand, hadn't been so easily saved, and he had it lovingly tucked over his arm to be safely stashed into his locker.

He didn't bother glancing around for Puck anymore. It was a bit pathetic of him to think that Puck would be looking for Kurt just as intently as Kurt had been working his GPS for him. Hell, the heartthrob was probably busy talking up some skanks in spanks.

Kurt sighed as he hung the jacket in his locker, smoothing the wool sleeve with his fingertips and mourning the loss of one of the components of a perfectly-executed outfit. "Carry on," he murmured to himself.

He shut his locker, only to jump at least ten inches into the air from sheer shock. Puck, who had somehow unknowingly shielded himself behind the locker door, shot Kurt a smirk that was equal parts amused and unsure. "Puck!"

"Hey, sup?"

"N-nothing. I was-" _looking for you,_ his mind supplied. "I'm just grabbing my stuff. You know, for class."

Puck shrugged, the epitome of casual indifference as he did an arms-free push off the locker that was almost boneless and showed off a brief, teasing strip of ab-tastic stomach. "Wanna walk me to gym?"

Kurt didn't need to read into Puck's sudden watchfulness to realize what the boy meant. Gym (one of the only classes they had together) would mean facing Karofsky and Azimio, and a whole mess of other popular cliques. Puck wanted to be seen walking with _Kurt_ around those important people.

Kurt took a deep, bracing breath, readjusting his bag on his shoulder as he nodded, crisp and tense. Puck shot him a smile, and _wow_, genuine happiness looked just as good as I-just-got-laid or angsty bad boy on Puck. Especially when that letterman was involved.

"Chillax," Puck murmured. "It's not like we're going into the lion's den. I got you."

Kurt watched Puck for a moment. There was no lingering, paranoid premonition that this was all some scheme to get Kurt hospitalized, not anymore. But as he looked at Puck's gaze, his quirked mouth and his slouching stance, Kurt wondered just what he was about to get into.

"I believe _I_ should be doing the stepping-up here," Kurt breezed, straightening his posture as he went to wrap his arm around Puck's waist. He paused, remembering the _last_ time he'd tried touching Puck. Kurt almost went to ask if it was alright, but decided to suck it up and just go for it. (After all, hadn't _Puck_ thrown caution to the wind when he asked Kurt out?)

Puck twitched in his hold but was thankfully quick to settle. He snickered a bit as they leisurely made their way to the gymnasium. "Well _damn_, Hummel. Way to show some balls, didn't know you had it in you."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet, Puckerman," Kurt quipped. "So… am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in judgment the other day, or would you like me to start groveling at your feet?"

Puck shot him a sideways grin as he watched Kurt hold one of the gym's double-doors open for him. He just pushed the other open so they could fit side-by-side, never breaking loose of Kurt's grip. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"**  
**


End file.
